


That Stupid Dream Is All You've Got

by ashretics



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Comfort, M/M, forsyth just needs a little, it gets a lil fluffie hee hee hoo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 05:05:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11395914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashretics/pseuds/ashretics
Summary: Because of him, he kept at it.





	That Stupid Dream Is All You've Got

There was no easy way to break someone’s heart. Not even the softest tone could cushion the punch that rejection or scorn would throw. Pieces of hope would scatter onto the ground like autumn leaves, and no one but their keeper would be able to pick up the pieces. Perhaps if one’s heart was strong enough, it would be able to take an additional number of hits. Three or four bouts of dejection’s fists ought to do the trick, or maybe more. But in the end, it was all the same. The heart could only take so much.

For Forsyth, his heart was synonymous with the tower that was his dream. He’d raised it up high for all to see, for all to know that this was what he was going to become: a knight in service of Zofia and all her people. He was going to be of use. He was going to actually help people. He was going to make a difference and actually make this damned world worth living in.

That was just the thing, though. He _was_. That was what it _was_ supposed to be like. 

It soon became crystal clear that these nobles truly didn’t care about him or Python, much less his aspirations. They’d much rather kick them back to the filthy town streets where over-ambitious runts like them belonged more than they would rather give them anything besides their pay. (Was that how they worded it? Forsyth couldn’t tell. He’d been told the same message thrice now, just with different words.) There was no place for them here to start with, not where there were men that were much more capable and important than they were. They were lucky that they had even let them join the Deliverance in the first place.

Forsyth knew that they were right. They _were_ lucky. He was always well-aware of his own status. He was a commoner, no more, no less. To become a knight was something that was more unrealistic than Python going an entire day without napping, and that was pretty much impossible. And just like any tower, the one that was made up of his dream was susceptible to falling down and causing disaster. Everything he was about would just come crumbling down. Was it right to risk that? Was it right to risk his very existence just for one goal? 

“--yth.”

It wasn’t just his existence either. There was more weight on his shoulders than his own, more on the table than his own share. Should they have stayed in their hometown, then? Was this selfish?

“--orsyth.”

He didn’t want to be selfish. He’d only asked for a few things in life, but why was it that he hadn’t received anything at all? He wasn’t materialistic. He—

“Hey, dumbass.”

Befittingly, Forsyth turned his head around, his idle gaze moving from the tactical codex in his lap to the man leaning on the door frame. “Python? Sorry, were you calling for me?”

“Yeah, I was. Seems like your name’s changed from ‘Forsyth’ to ‘dumbass’ now, though, huh?” The archer walked into the cramped room over to him, leaving his position so that he could plop down on the bed next to the now-scowling soldier. As soon as he was settled, he let out a sigh that sounded like he was readying himself for a long lecture. “Alright, bud. Why the long face?”

“What do you mean?” 

Python rolled his eyes. By that response alone, he already confirmed that there was something wrong. “I mean, why are you all frowny-pouty? Usually I find you out there training your pants off. And don’t pretend like there’s nothing wrong, because then I’ll have to deal with you being all moody for the next few days.”

Forsyth muttered something to himself. There was no use in playing coy, and he knew it. He and Python had known each other for as long as he could remember. Keeping that in mind, it was always difficult to hide things from one another. (Not like they did that often, anyway.) It was probably best to just tell him, despite Forsyth’s heavy reluctance.

“If you really must know,” he finally began. “I’ve just been…thinking.”

“No kidding. The look you had on your face just second ago made it seem like you were gonna pop a vein in your head from how much you were concentrating.”

“It was just about something serious.”

“And that something _is_? C’mon, Forsyth. I’m pretty light on my feet, but I’m not all too keen about dancing around conversations.”

“Well, it was… It was just about my chances of becoming a knight.”

 _Uh oh._ This really was serious. It wasn’t really the topic that was presented to Python that made him realize that, but rather, it was the way Forsyth looked and sounded when he said it. When he talked about knighthood, he always made it sound like it was the greatest thing in the world. There was this bursting flare in his eyes that’d be sparked by just the simple mention of it. This time, though, it seemed more like there was a small, anxiously swaying candlelight rather than a “bursting flare”.

“Go on,” he said, straightening himself up a little bit as if to signal that he knew how heavy this was going to be.

“You know better than anyone how much I’ve wanted this. I’ve finally been given a chance, and everything I ever asked for is right in front of me. I have the opportunity in my grasp. I feel so close to one of the few things I’ve desired in life.” Here, he stopped. Uncharacteristically brooding, olive irises moved down to the book he was holding while his calloused fingers pinched at the corner of a yellowed page. “That’s what I make myself think, at least. In truth, I’ve always known that it’s an unattainable goal. A commoner like me is never going to get anywhere. No matter how much I work, no matter how many battles I win, the picture of me in knight’s armor simply never becomes clearer.”

Forsyth rubbed his eyes before he continued speaking again. Talking about things like this was supposed to be relieving, wasn’t it? If he could just alleviate a little bit of the weight he’d put on himself, then maybe he might feel better. It wasn’t like he had much to lose either way.

“I tell myself over and over that all I have to do is work hard to get what I want. That’s I’ve been doing for years. But...it’s been so long that I’m starting to question whether my hope is genuine or not. After all, you can only lie to yourself for so long until you start to lose who you really are, and I feel… I feel as though I’m at that point.” (…What? This wasn’t relieving, no. This didn’t feel like it was making him feel better at all. In fact, it did the exact opposite. It hurt to speak like this. With every word he let out of his mouth, it felt as though he was skewering his own heart with brutal honesty. Yet he couldn’t stop, not now, even if the mist that was forming in his eyes was starting to get thicker.) 

“I know what I want, but I know I can never have it. Yet if I stop, I l-lose everything.” Gods, that hurt. That burned. His words were forced out of him, as he started to feel like they were choking on them. “I don’t know what to do anymore, P-Python.” Stop. Stop, stop crying. It wasn’t going to help anyone. “I’m n-not sure if I c-ca-an do thi-is anym-more...”

Python’s heart nearly sank down right to his stomach at that. Forsyth, the definition of positivity, optimism and drive themselves was starting to _give up_. Hell must have started to freeze over. What was more was that those tears that started to dribble down Forsyth’s cheeks and the tone that he’d held in his shaking voice reminded him not of his best friend, but someone else. When he looked at him now, he didn’t see an unstoppable, unwavering man that radiated conviction and faith. Instead, he saw a boy. A boy that was afraid of facing facts that he was already far too familiar with, a child quivering under them as he whimpered for guidance. 

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t his Forsyth.

“Forsyth, I hate to tell you, but—”

“I kn-know,” he interrupted, causing Python to gain a grimace. The soldier hiccuped. “I-I know. You told me so.”

“Not what I was going to say, pal.” A long exhale came through his nose, his head shaking. Forsyth put on a confused expression behind wet palms, and Python adjusted his position so that he was leaning forward to properly look at his childhood friend. “Now, if you’ll let me finish. Ahem. Forsyth, I hate to tell you, but you must be a whole new kind of dumbass if you’re going to pull out of this race when you’re already this far.”

“...Wh-what?”

“You seriously need me to explain?” Python snorted, making sure that it was over-exaggerated for emphasis as he poked a finger against Forsyth's chest. “Yeesh. For a guy raised by a scholar, you sure can be pretty dense.”

“Th-this is only ma-aking me f-feel wo-orse.”

“Sorry, but someone has to tell it to you. Might as well be me.” Trying to act as nonchalant as ever, the archer put his elbow on one of his knees and rested his head against his folded hand. He knew Forsyth, and he knew him well. If he wasn’t going to be direct with him, then he might as well stop trying. “Get it into that thick skull of yours, yeah? Wars don’t last forever, and chances don’t come waltzing up to you like this like some desperate widow.”

Forsyth sniffled, a small and undignified bit of snot trailing down his nose despite his efforts. Ah, to hell with it. Python grabbed his sorry form, pulling his shoulders over so that his head was under his chin. The archer pat his back, then, occasionally stopping to rub it in the most soothing way he could manage. Forsyth himself had blinked and hiccuped a few times before he realized the position that he was in, and although he was shaken, he still wiped his face free of a few stray tears.

“Listen. Becoming a knight is something pretty impossible, yeah. But the Forsyth I knew never let that get to him. He had a knack for making the impossible _possible_. See, there was this fire in him that people just couldn’t put out. Not even me. Take my word for it, I tried. He always found some way to keep it burning brighter than the sun itself, and honestly, it kinda hurt my eyes.” Forsyth was able to give a raspy little laugh at that, and it made Python smirk. He’d never felt so pleased to hear such a sound. “And that fire was real, I tell you. It’d burn anyone who touched it.”

“It was?” He asked, like a kid who was being praised.

“It was. Never seen anything like it. And you’re right, y’know? You _are_ just a commoner. That just means that you have to keep that stupid optimism thing you’ve got going on. Neither of us have much on us. Money? Yeah, right. Smarts? Maybe, but we already know how you feel about that.” There was a ruffle of Forsyth’s hair, and it caused him to duck his head. “So, you get it, old friend? You can’t throw in the towel now! That stupid dream is all you’ve got!”

“...All I’ve got…” He repeated the words on his own tongue, as if to test how they felt. His voice was still a bit worn from his brief little outburst, but a smile came to his face nevertheless, soft and somehow reminiscent as he looked at the blue fabric that covered Python’s arm. “But, I wouldn’t say that it’s the only thing I have.” 

“Well, okay. I guess you also have that giant forehead of yours.”

“Python!”

“Ha ha! What else could it be? Your lance? That ‘secret’ candy stash that you hide under your pillow?”

“None of that, you bumbling fool! Wait. How do you know abou—”

“Then what is it? Care to indulge me?”

A huff sounded through Forsyth’s throat, and he pressed his cheek up against Python’s chest. There was another sniffle, and he rubbed his nose. His tone was now quiet, a stark and quick contrast from what it had been just seconds ago. “...I have you, don’t I?”

…

...

“...Whazzat?”

Blink.

“A-am I wrong?”

“No. Er, no, I just, uh.” He cleared his throat, the hand on Forsyth’s back stopping all its motions. This definitely took an unexpected turn. What was with this guy and being unpredictable today? Normally, Python was able to foresee all his reactions! “I mean, that just wasn’t what I thought you were gonna say. I wagered it was going to be something like… Gods, I dunno.” Was that measly little comment really making Python’s cheeks heat up? Crivens, he felt pathetic. Thank the gods Forsyth couldn’t see that, or else he’d likely never hear the end of it…

Ah, but little did he know, Forsyth was thinking the exact same thing. Now feeling embarrassed that he’d blurted out such an answer, he turned his head from its comfortable position on Python’s chest so that he could look at the ground. He really needed to think before he spoke, or else the red on his face was definitely going to come back with a vengeance. 

“Anyhow, er. Thank you, Python, fo—”

“Hold it.” And Forsyth was tugged right back into his arms before he could even think of escaping. “You really think you can say something like that and get away with it?

“...Yes?”

“Nope.”

“Oh dear.”

Python took that as his cue to bring the both of them down, and they soon found themselves flopped down onto the small mattress together. There wasn’t nearly enough room for either of them, but Python didn’t seem to be bothered by that at all. Forsyth, on the other hand, was shocked and owl-eyed. They’d shared a bed before, so this was nothing new. But it had been a long, long while since they’d done this. 

“You’ve got some nerve, y’hear that? Crying all over me and revealing that you got a grip on reality after all, and pretty much making me comfort you by goin’ against all the words I’d said before about you becoming a knight.” Python pinched Forsyth’s cheek, earning an “ow!” from him. (He noticed it was already a warm pink, and for a second, he contemplated on if it was because they were lying down together or if it was because he realized what he had said before.) “Next, you go on saying that you have me, like I’m some sort of thing you can lug around and pour all your troubles onto for the rest of your life.”

“I-I didn’t mean to imply anything like that!”

“But I didn’t say I wasn’t, did I?”

“Er. N-no. No, you didn’t. Could you let go of my cheek, perchance?”

“No.”

Sigh.

“Look, I’m always gonna be here for you, alright? Thick and thin and all that. We’ve been through a lot together already, starting from me stealing cookies for you when we were kids to now. And if I’m honest, you’re probably the one thing on this earth that I’ve put this much effort into.” Tug, tug. “I don’t mind, though. As long as I have you, too.”

Forsyth’s hand took Python’s, half to stop him from pinching his cheek, the other just to keep him close. He brought their foreheads together, knowing smiles on both of their faces.

“You have always had me.”

Yes, there was no easy way to break someone’s heart. But there was always some way to put it back together.

**Author's Note:**

> oof, my first piece in seven years... i'm a little rusty, but i wanted to flex my fic-writing muscle for these boys! hope you enjoyed! ★ sorry if the ending seemed abrupt WHEEZO...
> 
> [also uhhhh here's the "cover art" i did for it aklsdfjsa](http://orig11.deviantart.net/34ee/f/2017/184/f/c/tsdiayg_by_qoebameron-dbf0xqt.png)


End file.
